Pretty Princess
by Dinnee
Summary: Hey, I've changed the character's name. Please r/r!


Pretty Princess.  
  
Disclaimer: None of the characters that appear in Tolkien's books and this story are mine (Duhu! ;-) )  
  
A/N My spelling checker finally works! Yay! Never the less, my English hasn't improved, please don't flame me… Just enjoy the story and review please! ( Oh yes, things between 'quotes' are just thoughts.  
  
Chapter One.  
  
Enancaiel flumped down on her bed. How could they? She was mad. Holding back the tears was of no use now. She could kill them for this, but she knew that if she would try anything, they'd just laugh. They were like that, the girls of the dancing class. They hated her, only because… Because… She couldn't think of a proper reason, only, maybe that she enjoyed dancing so much that she didn't see or hear anything when she would be dancing. Yes, that would probably be it.  
  
When she was a little kid she had been attending ballet classes. Together with her mother she would practice. Her mother was a great dancer and as a little kid Enancaiel had always admired her. She had been happy back then. Very happy, for her mother had the astonishing capability to make her happy no matter what. But now she was gone, dead. She had died in a awful accident and Enancaiel didn't want to think of it. Ever since her mother was gone, she had been sad. For ten years she had been sad now. And lonely, for she didn't have a father.  
  
The room was dark, but Enancaiel didn't bother to turn on the light. She didn't care, she didn't care about anything. Of what use was that anyway? She hated the world. Just as much as she hated the father she had never even met. She hated him for abandoning her mother and she hated him for abandoning her.  
  
The pillow on her bed was now drenched with tears. She faced the sealing, yellow stars shone down on her. Not real stars of course, just those simple plastic glow-in-the-dark stars. Enancaiel had put them up together with her mother. They had arranged them just like the constellations outside. Every night her mother would sit down on her bed and tell her a story about every star. Most of the times they were stories about gods and brave people doing great things. Enancaiel loved those stories, but there was one story that she had always remembered.  
  
The story of the ring.  
  
When she was six her mother had first told her about the ring. Every night she would be told about the ring. Every night, but she never knew how the story would end, for her mother had died just before her seventh birthday.  
  
Enancaiel jumped up from her bed. She had a headache. 'Enough about this, I don't want to think about it anymore.' She was a though girl, but when she got upset she would cry no matter what. Most of the time she wouldn't cry until she was back in her room, but still the girls knew she would cry and teased her about it. How she hated this place. All the girls were orphans and even though they weren't treated bad she still hated it here.  
  
'Aren't I the most cliché person? Orphan and unhappy. Longing for a prince to take me away to a fairytale world.' She thought. "Oh please, DO take me away!" She exclaimed.  
  
"Then I will." Enancaiel jumped. A voice had answered her. She couldn't see anybody, but there had been a voice from the corner of the room. She hesitated.  
  
"Who are you, and what are you doing here, I mean…" But she didn't finish her sentence.  
  
"My name is Mithrandir. Let me take you back to the world you really belong in." He stepped out of the shadows. Still Enancaiel couldn't see much. He was wearing a cloak and a hood, so she couldn't see his face. Yet there was something in his voice that she trusted. It was as if she had known him for a very long time, as if he was a long lost friend, who's voice you hear after a long time again.  
  
"Go on, you need to pack you bag. It will be a long journey, but don't bother about food, for the journey is long in distance, not in days. It will take only a few minutes, but there will be no way back. So think before you start packing and don't take useless things with you, they will only be a burden." The man spoke with a calm voice and sat down on the bed. Enancaiel blinked, but didn't move. Was he serious? She shook her head.  
  
"Are you not willing to come?" He asked. By the way he said that Enancaiel could tell he was smiling.  
  
"I… I don't know." She sighed. "I can't just leave."  
  
"Why couldn't you? Don't you want to leave?" He asked her, but something told her he already knew the answer. She turned on the light. It was bright, but only for a moment. She picked up her back, turned it upside down above her bed and started to sort out the things she would want to take. Mithrandir observed her closely, but didn't say a thing. His eyes fell on the bow on the wall.  
  
"Take your bow, you will need it." He said. Enancaiel looked up.  
  
"Why would I take it? It's a bow for tournaments, not for hunting, if that's what you thought. I haven got the right arrows for hunting. Those are not sharp enough." She said and picked up the quiver, taking a closer look on her arrows.  
  
"Sharpen them."  
  
Enancaiel shook her head. "I can't do that. It's illegal. That would turn this sport attribute into a weapon."  
  
"Do as I say. You will need it."  
  
"I'm not so sure if I want to come to this other world with you. If one can't even go about without a weapon." Enancaiel returned to her bag and stuffed in some socks.  
  
"Then why do you continue packing?"  
  
She threw her hands up in despair. "What am I to do? I hate this place, but I am unsure about this world you are going to take me to."  
  
"There is no need to worry, with your bow you will be perfectly safe." The man had gotten up from the bed and walked over to the wall. "What a fine piece of art. Really splendid. What kind of material is it made of?"  
  
"A form of plastic, really bendable, yet strong. I do not know the precise name of the material though. The arrows are made of aluminium." Enancaiel didn't look up as she answered, still busy fitting stuff in her bag. She looked around. 'Have I forgotten anything? Oh yes, my toothbrush.'  
  
Mithrandir had picked up her quiver. "These arrows are well fit for killing, they just need a little improvement." There was a flash of light and the arrows had turned into deadly weapons. Enancaiel gasped. 'What the?'  
  
Mithrandir smiled at her. "Magic does come in handy sometimes, as you will see some time in the future." He said and handed the full quiver to Enancaiel. From a drawer she took a spare snare, a leather grip (so the snare wouldn't cut her fingers) and a stabiliser. The last looked like two metal staffs with weights on them, which could be attached to the bow, so it wouldn't sway so much, that way it would be much more accurate.  
  
"A true piece of art. All bowmen will be jealous." Mithrandir said. "Come, it is time to leave now. Have you got everything?" He asked her and took her hand. Enancaiel swung the bow and quiver on her back and picked up her back.  
  
"Not yet." She said and picked up the toy lion from her bed. "I can't sleep without Simmah." 


End file.
